Sirius
by 8belles
Summary: What happens when Ichabod plays with SiriusXM radio... SPOILERS to "Necromancer"


***** Author's Note: WOW! I did not see "Necromancer" coming! That will change my plot here, which I started before that episode. But I do like the challenge of writing outside of my time period with this show, but I also want to stress accuracy when I am writing historically. Therefore, I included the link to the song I researched (an actual piece that Washington and our Ichabod would have heard in their time. Enjoy. 8belles *****

"**Sirius"**

_A few days before "Necromancer"_

"Come with me to the store?" Abbie asked nonchalantly over her shoulder at Ichabod, who was thumbing through her copy of "Vogue", his cheeks turning a peculiar shade of pink.

He shook himself, quickly closing the magazine and looked up at her with an embarrassed expression practically dropping the periodical, "Of …course."

"Great. Let's go." she returned, grabbing her purse and keys. He followed behind respectfully and cast a dubious glance at the closed magazine.

Ichabod sighed in frustration because he knew this would happen; once again, he was trapped in the car. Last time this occurred, he had enjoyed a delightful conversation with a lady named "Yolanda" after he accidentally pushed the On Star button. After a tearful story about her relationship problems and Ichabod's recount of how he and Katrina had parted, she had instructed him on unlocking the doors of the car, to which he was eternally grateful for that knowledge.

However, he didn't want to get out today despite his displeasure at being left behind. Abbie had left the keys in the ignition for the radio to play some music for him. " We haven't had much time to talk music, but push these buttons for something to listen to. I'll be right back." she said quickly before exiting the car, " Just don't pull the keys out!"

Ichabod raised a hand in protest and was about to counter her when she closed the car door on him. _How rude,_ he thought and lowered his hand turning his attention to the dashboard. The music volume was very low and barely audible. Staring at the dash as if regarding an amazing puzzle of wits, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully trying to discern how this piece of 21st century technology worked.

After his experience with the laptop, he wasn't sure how this would end as he extended a finger to push the upper portion of the button marked "Vol". Ear splitting base rocketed Ichabod out of his seat as " _Royals_" swelled on the speakers. A few odd glances from outside the vehicle saw the goofy Brit that the police lady hung out with flailing about, hands clapped over his ears as the lyrics sang out, " Let me be your ruler/ You can call me Queen Bee/And I'll rule…."

Finally, after splitting his skull with blaring base, he pushed the volume button down to hopefully quell the tremendous sound. It did to his relief and after catching his breath and swearing silently to himself, he pondered his next move, if any. All he knew is he was not ready for a young lady named, Lourde.

There were 6 buttons to choose from and he was almost afraid to think what other musical horrors lay behind each one. He poked "1" and the display said SiriusXM HITS and a rhythmic beat filled the car but at a much more pleasant volume. Still, it was not to his liking. He chose "2" and Abbie had programed Real Jazz to that channel. Ichabod listened appreciatively to the melody and brass playing with a delightful piano in the harmony but that wasn't quite right either. Sensing some confidence, he pushed button "3" and Symphony Hall appeared on the display. The soothing voice of the classical channel DJ was at the end of a chat about early American composers and then he played _Durang's Hornpipe_.(  watch?v=MkAMROuqNXg).

Ichabod felt the breath sucked out of him as the mandolin and banjo began to play in the tune he had not heard in over two hundred years. _As if it were yesterday, he saw George Washington's home in the wood paneled parlor where before dinner; a small musical group had been hired for the evening. A warm fire burned in the hearth and voices were clear and happy before the more grueling task of war faced their future. Katrina had been there too, in her satin polonaise of simple robin egg blue, her auburn hair tucked up in an interesting coif off her neck, quite opposite of the first time they had met over the murder of Arthur Bernard. Never, had she looked so lovely to him and he felt again as if had known her a full set of lifetimes. _

"_Friends! Gather! A toast to our new Nation! May we be successful in wresting our God given rights from the Tyrant King George!" Washington declared commandingly in his blue general's suit, his golden epaulets shining in the candlelight, every inch the leader the Continental Congress had hoped him to be. The room and Ichabod raised their glasses and saw Katrina was looking directly at him from across the room. When he caught her eye, she looked away coyly. _

_When she looked back, it was his turn to smile sweetly as he crossed the room handing his glass to a maid. The band began to play Durang's Hornpipe and with a bow before Katrina he proffered her his hand to dance the country-dance steps that were becoming the rage in the colonies. She smiled and accepted a bright twinkle in her eye and Ichabod felt his heart jump as her light touch sent thrills through him. They rounded and parted, then came together again circling the room in the line dance as the music resounded so happily in the house. Clapping punctuated the dance and all was a blur until Abraham stepped in. _

_Katrina froze as he confronted Ichabod with a stern look on his face, which quickly melted into a friendly smile as he took Katrina's hand from his, "Ichabod my old friend, allow me to appropriate this most radiant of ladies from you to finish. I have glad news!"_

"_Abraham! Not here!" Katrina hissed as she pulled her hand from his as if she had been burned. _

"_Why not, Dearest? This room is full with our friends who would be glad of our news!" Abraham returned, beaming, the light played off his false grey wig. Ichabod looked confusedly between them as if he were missing the joke. Dancers continued to whirl around them as the music cascaded about them. For a moment, Ichabod felt he would be sick as his heart's joy retreated. _

_Katrina set her jaw and pursed her lips in a fine line, her eyes a fiery green. Abraham took this as her consent to stop the music, "Friends! Hear hear!" he called out in the parlor space. The music stopped and it took a moment for women's skirts to cease swishing; even George Washington, who was standing at the side of the room, sherry in hand, looked on with curiosity. " Katrina and I are to be wed!" Abraham announced proudly, his chest puffed out beneath his taupe velvet coat with shiny brass buttons. Wrist lace fluttered as applause rang out with cheers from some of the other young men while Ichabod felt as if a knife had been plunged into his guts and twisted. _

_Katrina is betrothed! Ichabod repeated to himself disbelieving while forcing a tight smile onto his face and giving his friend a half felt congratulations. Katrina wouldn't meet his eye and looked rather wretched as well. People approached and congratulated the couple so Ichabod made his escape before he revealed his true feelings._

"Hey, you ok?" Abbie said hopping in the car. Ichabod jumped again as she startled him out of his reverie.

Clearing his throat, lest his voice crack with emotion he replied, "Ms. Mills. My pardon, just … day dreaming." He tried to hide the choked up feeling he had developed. Blinking and shaking off the wraith of memory he looked at Abbie. She as staring at him as if she knew something was wrong.

" You're lying." she called his bluff.

"Ms. Mills! That is a serious accusation." Ichabod returned feeling a bit of heat come to his cheeks even though in his mind he felt she was expressing concern and not questioning his integrity.

" Wanna talk about it?" she commented fastening her seatbelt.

"No, I do not 'wanna' talk about it." he replied sulkily.

"Nice song." Abbie changed the subject.

"Yes. Yes it was." Ichabod responded half-heartedly.

Abbie sensing he needed to perk him up stated, "I got us some real American food for dinner tonight."

"What culinary delight have my countrymen devised now? More energy drink?" Ichabod retorted glancing at her as she started the car and began to pull out.

"No. Mac and cheese." was her reply.

"Mac and what?" Ichabod said dubiously.

"Macaroni and cheese. You know, 'Yankee Doodle went to town, riding on a pony. Stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni!" Abby sounded proud of her 18th century knowledge.

"Ms. Mills, the Macaroni of my time were men who wore elaborate feathered hats. It was a fashion in the Italian courts which unfortunately infected Britain and the colonies." he educated her with a hint of disdain for the fashion.

"Well here in America, it's a noodle based food covered in cheese. You'll love it. It always makes me feel better when I'm not happy." Abby concluded giving him a quick look from the road.

"Happiness from food. Interesting premise." was the dry reply.

"Well, that and chocolate." she offered.

" I appreciate your concern." He gave here a small smile.

"That's what friends are for." she reached over from the steering wheel and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Indeed." he agreed, "Indeed."


End file.
